


Closer

by youresoawkward



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician), liam payne - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Exhibitionism, Fluff, M/M, Smut, all of my favorite things tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:53:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youresoawkward/pseuds/youresoawkward
Summary: "Zayn," a voice calls, deep and warm and familiar, and Zayn's breath catches in his throat at hearing his name on Liam's tongue again. He turns to see him, to see Liam, standing at the end of the hall, looking shy and hopeful and maybe a bit nervous if Zayn can still read him right."Hi," he breathes, and Liam smiles bright and sincere, and then Zayn's feet are moving back down the hall and toward him before his brain can decide against it. Liam meets him halfway, arms open wide and Zayn sinks into him without thought.--or, zayn finds himself at the same party as liam after a long time apart. lots of feelings (and sex) ensue





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> [remember when zayn wore those leather balmain pants!?!](http://zaynfashionnews.tumblr.com/post/144036453581/street-style-out-in-nyc-070516-merch-urdu) well. i wanted to write a fic about that outfit cause, wow, he looked good, but like everything with me it got super angsty super quick!
> 
> it's also just been sitting unfinished on my phone for over a year so it may seem dated lmao, sorry bout that, but it was time to dust it off and post it
> 
> thank you to virginia for reading it over for me and just being generally supportive of my unproductive self!
> 
> hope everyone enjoys!

Small talk has never really been Zayn’s thing. He’s decent at it, sure. Nodding at the right times, asking the right follow up questions to keep the other person talking enough so that he doesn't have to. But he's never actually _enjoyed_ it, is the thing.

Normally Zayn would avoid an event like this, a dinner party at the home of Sonja Jackson, gatekeeper to the New York fashion scene and someone Zayn's manager has been urging him to cozy up to for months. But he's never even met Sonja before tonight, and getting invited to someone's home just because of his name, and not because of who he is as a person, is one of the strangest things to come out of the last six years.

See, he’d been pushed to come. Something about how important it is to make connections if he wants to be relevant for the long term. So he’s here, but he'd only planned to stay for dinner and then make an early exit in the hopes of avoiding the tedious conversations he always gets stuck in at these sorts of parties. He'd made that plan before he'd known Liam would be here though, and now his plan’s gone out the window because it feels good to finally be in the same room as Liam again, even if they have been dancing around each other all night.  
  
And there has been small talk tonight, like Zayn feared. Lots of small talk. In fact, he's currently in a mostly one-sided conversation with Jim - no, John? - about what themes will be pervasive on runways next season and Zayn is having a hard time following. His mind feels fuzzy, and he's not sure if it's from the mind numbing conversation or all the red wine he drank at dinner. Or maybe it's the way Liam's eyes have been on him all night, steady and warm and a little bit questioning, making his cheeks feel hot and his pulse race under his skin.  
  
"Look at me boring you by talking about work," the man— who's name Zayn is still struggling to remember— says, a sheepish smile lifting his lips.  
  
"No, mate," Zayn replies, smiling back. "Not at all. Sorry, it's just— I think I need to get some air is all."  
  
Zayn makes to step away, his fingers itching for a cigarette but the man shuffles closer, trapping him against the wall, a hand cupping his hip.  
  
"Why don't we take a walk then? I don't live far from here," he says, eyebrow crooked up in question and Zayn can admit that he's attractive, albeit a tad older than his usual conquests, but attractive nonetheless. Zayn takes a breath, ready to decline but the man rushes to carry on. "Just for a drink? I can make it up to you for talking about myself all night." He dips his head with a nervous laugh. "I tend to ramble when I'm trying to impress someone. It doesn't usually work, is the thing, but—"  
  
Zayn stops him with a hand to the chest and he can feel the man's fingers tighten for a moment against his hip before falling away. "I'm flattered, mate, but not tonight. I'm going to be getting out of here soon. Bit knackered." Zayn smiles at him, sweet and sincere.  
  
"Right," the man nods, smiling back. "Course. I understand. But here." He digs in his back pocket, pulling out a business card. "If you ever want to have that drink, give me a call?" There's still hope in his voice and Zayn thinks the night might have ended differently for both of them if Liam wasn't across the room, reminding him of old feelings he hasn't been able to shake.  
  
"I will," he agrees, taking the card from the man, _Jeff_ he learns from a quick glance at the paper in his hand. They exchange goodbyes and there's an amount of finality in it on Zayn's part that tells him that Jeff knows he won't be calling.  
  
The party is filling up now, people arriving that hadn't been at the dinner earlier in the evening and when Jeff turns to walk away he's almost immediately swallowed up by the crowd.  
  
Now that he's alone again the need for nicotine is even more immediate, an anxious tension bubbling under his skin.  
  
There's a balcony, probably several with the size of the flat— a multi-story penthouse on the upper east side of Manhattan— and Zayn worms his way through the crowd until he finds it. He pulls the door open in relief and roots in his pocket for his cigarettes but freezes at the sound of tense voices. There's a couple he remembers meeting before dinner arguing loudly in front of him.  
  
"You always do this. We can never just have a nice night out!"  
  
Zayn tries to turn back into the flat without them noticing but they both turn when Zayn’s heel catches on the lip of the door jamb, and the three of them just stare at each other for a moment in silence until—  
  
"Do you mind? We're trying to have a private conversation here."  
  
"Yeah, right, course. Sorry," Zayn says, backing away and shutting the door again. He leans against the wall, breathes. He really needs a cigarette and if he has to lean out a window in a guest bedroom to get one he will.  
  
He pushes away from the wall and makes his way back through the crowd of people until he finds a long, empty hallway next to the overly large staircase. He follows the corridor, opening doors, first a utility closet, then a small windowless room with a toilet, then—

"Zayn," a voice calls, deep and warm and familiar, and Zayn's breath catches in his throat at hearing his name on Liam's tongue again. He turns to see him, to see _Liam_ , standing at the end of the hall, looking shy and hopeful and maybe a bit nervous if Zayn can still read him right.  
  
"Hi," he breathes, and Liam smiles bright and sincere, and then Zayn's feet are moving back down the hall and toward him before his brain can decide against it. Liam meets him halfway, arms open wide and Zayn sinks into him without thought.  
  
He smells the same as Zayn remembers, like amber and vanilla and the shadow of cigarette smoke. He buries his face in Liam's neck and breathes in his scent, his throat thickening with tears from the relief of seeing him again, and from him welcoming Zayn with literal open arms.  
  
Zayn relaxes into Liam's body, blunt fingernails scratching against his scalp and strong arms holding him tight. He could stay like this for the rest of the night, all the tension and nerves he'd felt earlier leaving his body now that he knows Liam doesn't hate him like he's been worried about all these months.  
  
A thud from behind him breaks the spell that had fallen over them. Liam's grip is loosening before Zayn can register what's going on, and then Liam's stepping away, putting distance between their bodies. Zayn's heart drops at the sudden rejection.  
  
One of the waiters that had served the dinner walks by them, avoiding eye contact and heading toward the party with an empty tray at his side. Liam glances back, toward the kitchen, the door now closed but Zayn can hear the sound of the plates being cleaned and put away.  
  
"C'mon," Liam says, nodding toward an empty alcove under the massive staircase and Zayn goes without question, Liam's guiding hand on the small of his back.  
  
He steps as deep into the alcove as he can, back pressed against the wall, just outside the reach of the light from the hallway. Liam follows close until they're both hidden in the shadows.

"I'm really glad you're here," Liam says. Zayn can feel his breath, hot against his skin. "I'd hoped you'd be here. Heard a rumor you'd been invited." He laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. "S'the only reason I came. To see you."  
  
"Yeah?" Zayn questions, the beginnings of elation bubbling in his belly.  
  
"Yeah. It’s been too long." Liam’s words are pointed and Zayn knows it's cause he's the one that's been avoiding this, avoiding _them_ , because it's always felt like the safer option to just not talk to Liam and pretend that things between them might be okay, than to talk to him and find out for certain it was over for them. The lack of closure has kept Zayn full of hope for something he's not sure is really possible any more. But Liam is here. Here to see him, and that's got to mean something, has got to mean that they're on the right path again.

Zayn nods. “I know it has. I— I’m sorry that I missed your calls before but—,” he cuts himself off when Liam stiffens, posture straightening and his face falling.

It makes Zayn's stomach knot, Liam’s reaction does, and it's clear to Zayn that what happened between them isn't just water under the bridge for Liam.

“Li, I—,” he starts, wanting to make things right cause he's missed Liam so much but Liam shakes his head, stops Zayn from carrying on. His face softens, fingers reaching up to trace Zayn’s cheek and that's all it takes for Zayn’s stomach to unclench.

“Let’s not talk about that now? Please? I just— I just wanted to see you again, ‘s’all.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you want, Li,” Zayn assures and Liam nods along.

They’re standing close, Liam’s fingertips hot against Zayn’s skin. Liam’s eyes trace across Zayn’s face, gaze lingering on his lips and arousal spikes in Zayn’s belly at the realization that Liam wants him, even after everything that happened between them, Liam still wants him, and that's something he knows how to deal with.

Zayn parts his lips some, lets his tongue lick along them and Liam watches intently, parts his lips too.

“Liam,” Zayn breathes before he leans forward, Liam taking his lead and leaning in as well, their lips meeting for a kiss for the first time in a long time and Zayn's knees are already weak with it. Liam cups his face with one hand, tilting his head just right, just like he used to, just like he _knows_ Zayn likes. His other hand finds the small of Zayn’s back, holding him close, like he's worried Zayn might back away.

When Liam breaks the kiss it's with little pecks to Zayn’s lips, like he wants to stop kissing him but he can't, and Zayn follows his mouth each time, desperate for more.

Nimble fingers trace along the elastic of Zayn’s trousers, dipping underneath to rub at the skin there. “Couldn't believe it when I walked in and saw you wrapped in leather. It’s not fair how good you look in these.” Liam speaks the words against his lips and he shivers at Liam’s warm breath against his face and warmer hand dipping into his trousers to cup his arse, Liam’s calloused fingertips against him making his skin prickle. “Christ Zayn,” Liam groans. “If I’d known you weren't wearing anything underneath I probably would've creamed my pants at the dinner table.”

Arousal curls itself in Zayn's belly, hot and heavy, his prick stirring at Liam’s words while his lips slot between Liam’s again, the familiarity seeping into him, making his feel warm and safe and content for the first time in a long time.

"I've missed you," Liam says when the kiss breaks.

Zayn whimpers, grinds his hips into Liam’s. “I’ve missed you too, Li, so much.”

The hand down his trousers squeezes his arse and Zayn trembles under Liam’s grip; he's missed Liam’s hands on him like this, gentle, reverent, but with an undertone of possessiveness, and it's almost overwhelming to have him like this again.

“Let's get out of here. Come back to my hotel.” Liam’s voice is husky, and Zayn arches into him, feeling hot and sweaty and desperate. He wants that, him and Liam holed up together in a hotel room, but fuck if he can wait that long to have Liam inside of him again.

“Just, _fuck_ ,” he moans when Liam’s fingers tighten against his arse, kneading his flesh with strong fingers. “Liam, please. Just do it here.”

Liam groans, lips finding Zayn’s again to kiss him breathless. “You wanna...here? Are you sure?”

Blood rushes to Zayn’s cock, the thought of all of those people just on the other side of the wall making his stomach swoop and his skin tingle with energy. He does want it, wants Liam desperately, and he can't imagine waiting any longer; they've already wasted so much time.

“Yeah, yes,” Zayn assures him, reaching into Liam’s back pocket to grab the packet of lube he knows he keeps in his wallet, smiling to himself because they both know he's the reason Liam took to always carrying supplies with him everywhere he went. “Want you, Li, c’mon.”

He presses the packet into Liam’s chest and stuffs his wallet back into his pocket. Liam studies him a moment, brow furrowed and jaw tense.

“Liam.” Zayn whispers his name, pleading. “I want this, I promise.” Zayn insists, knows that Liam needs the extra assurance or else he'll worry he's taking advantage or that Zayn’s just going along out of guilt. When Liam doesn't move Zayn hesitates, wonders for a moment if maybe he misunderstood what Liam meant when he asked Zayn back to his hotel. “Li?” he starts to question, but then Liam is shaking his head, pulling away from Zayn just enough to take the packet from him, opening it with shaking fingers.

He tucks the packet away after he drizzles some lube into his palm, warming it against his skin before dipping his hand back into Zayn's trousers. Liam keeps their faces close, warm lips panting against the corner of his mouth and his nose pressed against Zayn's cheekbone. Zayn's fingers dig into the meat of Liam’s chest, curling against the expensive fabric of his shirt, needing the grounding feeling it gives him to be clinging to Liam so tightly.

Wet fingers skim between his cheeks until Liam's rubbing lightly against his hole. A breath catches in Zayn's throat and he tenses when Liam puts the slightest pressure against him, despite how badly he wants this.  
  
"We don't have to," Liam starts, fingertip still rubbing gentle around his rim, and Zayn trembles in his arms, desire coursing through him.  
  
"No. Just," Zayn whispers, clutching Liam tighter to keep him close. "Just take it easy with me, yeah? It's been awhile."  
  
Liam pulls back so he can focus on Zayn's face, free hand coming to rest against his cheek and Zayn nuzzles into Liam's palm before he can stop himself.  
  
"How long?" Liam says, voice low.  
  
Zayn closes his eyes against Liam's gaze, swallowing thickly. "Don't make me say it, please," he whispers, pleading evident in his voice and lips brushing against Liam's skin.  
  
Liam is silent for a moment, his thumb tracing over Zayn's lips, fingers of his other hand still tucked between Zayn's cheeks, still petting over him and Zayn has to fight the shiver that runs up his spine.  
  
"I think about that night a lot," Liam whispers.  
  
"Me too." It's almost obsessive at this point, replaying the memory of the two of them together for the last time. It’s repeated in his mind daily, even after all this time, and when Zayn's alone at night, if he concentrates hard enough, he can still feel Liam's hands on his body. Can smell the mixture of sweat and body wash that's so Liam, fresh in his nostrils. Can still hear him whispering words that felt a lot like love against Zayn's skin, even if neither of them ever actually said it.  
  
"I go over every detail in my mind," Liam carries on. "Everything you said, everything I said. I go over every way that I touched you and how you reacted, just trying to figure out what I did wrong." Zayn's eyes snap open at that, meeting Liam's sad gaze.  
  
"Liam," Zayn breathes, shocked because he's got it so wrong and the realization is like a knife to the gut.  
  
"Because when I fell asleep you were next to me and when I woke up you were gone. Like left the country gone, y'know? Like gone out of my life permanently kind of gone, and I can't figure out what I did."  
  
Zayn feels sick. There's an acrid burn at the back of his throat and his mind is racing to try and understand what Liam is saying.  
  
"I wasn't leaving _you_ , Liam." And it's the first time he's told him that because he didn't think he'd needed to, he thought it was obvious, how much that last time meant to him. He'd made sure that night was perfect, had begged Liam to fuck him deep and so, so slow, wanted to make sure it lasted, wanted to commit every gentle touch and sweet kiss to memory, just in case Liam never wanted to see him again once he left. And he's retreated into the memory of that night more times than he can count, the heat of Liam’s body blanketing him and the slow build of their climaxes still fresh in his mind.

"Felt like it," Liam says, and he laughs, a bitter sort of laugh that has Zayn's heart plummeting, the pain in Liam's eyes hurts Zayn more than all the months of loneliness he's felt combined.  
  
"I wasn't," Zayn whispers, voice choked. "Fuck, Li, I— I never wanted to leave _you_." There's so much he wants to say, needs to say, that he doesn't know where to start. Like how meeting Liam is the best thing that ever happened to him; and how Liam is the only thing that kept him sane through all those years in the spotlight. How Liam changed him as a person, made him better and braver and stronger, and he knows he did the same for Liam. He needs to tell him how he knows he shouldn't’ve left without saying goodbye but that he knew he wasn't strong enough to refuse Liam if he asked him to stay; wants to tell him how he thinks about that night everyday, withdraws into it when his heart aches with how much he misses him.  
  
"Liam, I—”  
  
His words die when he hears footsteps approaching their hiding spot, heavy and quick. He holds his breath, pressing his shoulders hard into the wall, trying to shrink further into the shadows. Liam tenses as well, lube-slicked fingers tightening against his hole, catching on his rim and Zayn's breath rushes out with a whimper that he can’t bite back. Liam covers his mouth just as the waiter walks past their hiding spot with a tray full of dirty glasses clinking noisily against one another. He watches the waiter pass, palm still firm against Zayn's mouth, and tense like he expects another person to come by again any moment.  
  
Zayn's heart pounds in his rib cage, the reminder of how they're not alone here sending a thrill through him and straight to his cock. He knows they need to talk this out but this isn't the time, not when his dick is hard in his pants and his arse is wet with lube.  
  
The corridor outside their alcove is quiet again and Zayn grinds his bum back against Liam's hand. Liam's eyes darken as he focuses his attention back to Zayn, the tip of his finger massaging between his cheeks.  
  
"If I take my hand away from your mouth are you going to be quiet for me, Zayn," Liam asks. Zayn nods, head knocking lightly against the wall.  
  
Liam moves his hand away from Zayn's mouth, palming against his jaw instead, fingertips scratching against the short hair on the back of his neck, and Zayn tilts his head back, parting his lips until Liam is leaning forward to kiss him again. He lets all the love and desire and passion he feels seep into the kiss, and it's not a substitute for telling Liam how he feels, but it's a start.

“Turn around,” Liam whispers once the kiss breaks, and Zayn does, Liam’s hands falling away from him. He lays his palms against the wall, forehead too, and Liam’s hands are on his hips again in an instant, shucking up his shirt enough to hook his thumbs under the elastic of Zayn's trousers, pulling the back down to expose his bare ass to Liam. He swallows the groan that bubbles in his throat at being exposed like this; he loves it, loves Liam’s eyes on him, and he arches his back to give Liam a better view.

Calloused fingers knead his cheeks, spreading him so the cool air tickles his skin, reminding him that he's already wet for Liam, so easy for him, and he's never been able to find it in himself to care because Liam’s the only one he's ever allowed himself to be like this with.

With a final squeeze Liam’s hands leave his body and Zayn whimpers at the loss of warmth. “Liam,” he says, whispering it, remembering that they're not alone, but Liam’s hands are back on him before he can get too restless, fingers wetted again and circling his entrance with soft determination.

Liam snakes his arm around Zayn’s waist, holds him tight as he gets his first finger inside. Zayn has to swallow the groan that builds in his throat at the feeling of Liam's hands in him again. It's not that he hasn't touched himself like this before, because he has, often, and always with Liam on his mind, but Liam’s fingers always feel better, fill him better than his own ever could.

Liam fucks into him slowly, until he's relaxed enough for a second finger, then a third, his thumb tracing along Zayn’s stretched rim, soothing the ache.

Soft lips play along Zayn’s neck, over his jaw until he's breathing against Zayn’s ear. “How d’you feel, beautiful?” Liam asks, twisting his fingers. “Ready for more?”

Zayn turns his face, mouth skimming against Liam’s cheek as he nods, stubble rough on his lips. He can feel Liam’s cock pressing insistently against him, so hard, and Zayn wants him desperately.

“Fuck,” he gasps, Liam’s fingers crooking, grazing his prostate. “Fuck me, Li, please.” He's sweating now, skin sticky with the heat building in their little nook, still fully clothed for the most part, his cock trapped in his trousers, the tip starting to slick up the soft lining.

Liam pulls his fingers out slowly, moving away just enough to undo the button and fly on his trousers and push them down his thighs. Zayn can hear the squelch of the lube he uses to slick himself before his arm is back around Zayn’s waist and the tip of his cock is teasing against Zayn’s opening.

“You sure you can be quiet for me, baby?” Liam holds himself steady, presses into Zayn the slightest bit and Zayn finds himself whimpering at the stretch. “Know how loud you can get when you're taking my cock.”

Zayn bites his lip and swallows a groan, nodding along. “You just make me feel so good,” he whispers it, Liam’s hot mouth finding his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth. “Can't help it.”

Liam chuckles, nuzzles against him. “You better be able to help it now,” Liam mumbles, sinking into Zayn as slow as he can manage, and Zayn arches for him, taking more and more until Liam’s bottoming out, their bodies flush. “Too many people at this party who might overhear.”

Zayn shudders, a shot of arousal making his prick wet, and his breath catch in his throat. Liam smiles into his skin as he fucks Zayn slowly, one hand holding his hip to keep him in place while his other sneaks under the fabric of his shirt, gentle fingers exploring the skin of his chest.

“God, I think you want them to hear, don't you? Want everyone to know how good I make you feel.” The din from the party is a constant in Zayn’s ear, mixing with Liam’s pants and grunts, and his low, insistent whispers that keep Zayn’s rapt attention. “Lay you out on the dining table, fuck you right in the center of the party, show everyone how good we are together. How much you love my cock.”

Zayn has to bite his lips hard to stifle the groan he lets out at Liam’s words. He knows he’d be mortified if they were caught like this, if their private moment suddenly became public, but the fantasy is enough to make him harder than he’s been in ages. “Fuck, yeah,” he whispers, throat dry. “Love it so much.”

“You feel so good, beautiful. You're always so perfect for me.” Liam takes one of Zayn’s nipples in hand, rolls the bud between his fingers, tugging, and Zayn gasps, body clenching around Liam’s cock. Zayn's own fingers find his other nipple, squeezing, loving the dull pain it brings and wanting Liam to soothe the ache away with his tongue. “Love watching you touch yourself, baby” Liam murmurs, pulling the hem of Zayn’s shirt up enough to watch his fingers play against his chest.

A moan catches in Zayn’s throat when Liam fucks into him harder, Zayn’s mind filling with memories of all the times he'd put on a show for Liam, touching himself but making Liam wait before he was allowed to touch as well, holding out until he was on the edge of cumming and Liam was begging him for a chance to touch, to taste.

Zayn shivers at the memory, tugs at his nipple again as Liam moves to cup him through his trousers, giving his dick a squeeze.

“Why don't you get a hand around that pretty cock of yours,” Liam whispers, breath against Zayn’s ear and Zayn nods, wants to show Liam how hard he is for him, how wet Liam makes him.

They pull his trousers down together, freeing Zayn’s prick, all tight skinned and red, wetness bubbling at the tip. Liam groans, fucks into him harder as his fingers dip down to cup Zayn’s sack, and Zayn spreads his legs as much as he can with his pants around his thighs.

“C’mon baby, show me how you touch yourself.”

Zayn does, his fingers wrapping around his length. He thumbs at his slit, spreads the wetness and jerks his dick in time with Liam's thrusts.

They move together easily, Zayn meeting the press of Liam's hips, thick cock grinding into his prostate, and he wants to scream with how good it feels being fucked like this.

The rest of the party fades away and all Zayn can feel is Liam; Liam’s breath on his face, and his hands on his hips, hard length filling him up. Every flick of Liam’s hips is deliberate, pushing Zayn closer, until he's trembling from the pleasure, orgasm hitting him in waves, his body tense as Liam fucks him through it.

Zayn’s spent, wet cock softening in his fist, his muscles shaking from his tense high. Liam’s thrusts have become erratic and Zayn braces himself against the wall the best he can while Liam grips his hips tight, screwing into him.

The sound of their skin slapping together is loud in the small space but Zayn doesn't care anymore, doesn't care if someone finds them, he just wants to feel Liam cum.

“Liam,” Zayn croaks, throat dry from panting. Liam’s name is like a prayer on his tongue. He repeats it over and over, begging, wanting Liam to finish inside him and Liam buries his face in Zayn’s neck, pulling Zayn closer as he cums. Zayn moans at the feel of it, of Liam’s warmth deep inside of him.

When Liam pulls out Zayn groans at the loss of his heat, he's open and wet and exposed but Liam’s hands are still on him, warm palms soothing over his cheeks, thumbs parting them to skate over his wet, sensitive hole. Zayn squirms under the attention and Liam hushes him, says he just wants to check that Zayn’s okay.

Liam turns him around when he's done, presses Zayn against the wall, unworried that they're both still naked from the waist down. “God, Zayn that was— fuck,” he cuts himself off, eyes closing. “I've missed you.” His words are deliberate, but Zayn can hear the emotion behind them.

Zayn cups his cheeks, thumbs along his skin, stubble prickling his palms. “It was perfect, Li,” Zayn assures. A soft smile breaks on Liam’s face before he leans in to press his lips to Zayn’s, gentle, unrushed. Zayn’s heart clenches at the sweetness of the kiss. He's missed this too, missed Liam, so much.

“Come home with me?” Liam asks, earnest and still nervous, like they didn't just fuck practically out in the open at a party. Zayn agrees, of course he does. He's not going to let Liam out of his life now, not when he's just gotten him back.

Liam dresses them, pulling Zayn’s trousers over his bum, tucking his soft cock away, and Zayn lets him, feels warm with the way Liam takes care of him.

They sneak out of their hiding spot, Zayn going first and Liam following a few minutes later, then out of the flat, neither of them bothering to say goodbye to the host. But Zayn can't be fussed enough to care. He'll send her a thank you gift tomorrow.

They meet in the underground garage of the building, crawling into the backseat of the car Liam called for them.

Zayn barely has time to greet the driver before Liam’s pressing the button to close the partition. He doesn't know where they're going, doesn't have a clue where Liam is staying or how long it will take them to get there but he doesn't want to waste a moment, especially since they have privacy.

He slides into Liam's lap, straddling his thighs while Liam’s arms circle him, hold him close.

“I can't believe you're really here, with me,” Liam says, nosing against Zayn’s cheek, lips skimming over the scruff on his jaw. Zayn cuddles closer, arms tightening around him, reveling in having his solid warmth beneath him again.

“Well believe it,” Zayn teases, kissing Liam’s temple, even though he's still in awe of all of this as well. They've both been so stupid. “Wish I had known you weren't angry with me all this time.”

Liam tongues over the pulse of Zayn’s throat, nipping the skin there before he places a soft kiss over the reddened patch. “Wish I’d known you weren't leaving ‘cause of me.”

Zayn hugs him tighter. “Never, Li. I’d never leave you.” He pulls back some, enough to look Liam in the eye. “I love you, Liam.” He holds Liam’s gaze, needs to make sure he's hearing him, because even though he's told Liam he loves him thousands of times, he's never done it like this, when it's just them, tucked away together, intimate and private. He never thought he needed to, figured Liam just knew.

“So you— you want this? With me?”

“I’m sitting in the back of a car with my arse full of your cum, and you still doubt if I want you,” Zayn says, trying to lighten the mood because Zayn’s never been good at saying what he feels in the moment. That's Liam’s specialty. Zayn would rather just show Liam how he feels, that's what he's good at, but Liam needs him to be vocal now, needs Zayn to reassure him. “I want this, Li. I want to be with you. Just you. I wanna make this work.”

“I want that too,” Liam whispers and Zayn kisses him, seals their promises with the press of their lips.

When the kiss breaks they’re both panting, breathless, and Liam leans close to his ear, snakes an arm behind Zayn’s back. “Wish you hadn't reminded me about my cum being in you right now,” he murmurs and Zayn’s belly swoops at the rough of his voice.

“And to think, we were having such a lovely moment,” Zayn teases, but rocks his hips into Liam's. He's missed Liam's filthy mouth, had almost forgotten how hot it can make him.

“We're still having a lovely moment,” Liam assures, meeting the press of Zayn’s hips. “Can't I appreciate the mind blowing sex I just had with my boyfriend without being shamed for it?”

Zayn groans, eyes fluttering closed as Liam grips his arse, flips them over so that Zayn is spread out on the bench beneath him. Liam’s eyes are bright, face hovering over Zayn’s, lips curved into a playful smile.

“Boyfriend,” Zayn whispers, testing the word on his tongue. It doesn't feel heavy enough, doesn't feel like it describes the intensity of feeling that's always existed between them. “But we're more than that.”

Liam skims his fingertips along Zayn’s hairline, cups his face. “Lover,” Liam tries, brushes his lips against Zayn’s.

“Closer.” He's not even sure what he's searching for but he knows that they're bigger than both of those words.

“Partner.”

Zayn shivers. He likes the way that sounds coming from Liam’s lips, loves it even, but it's still not enough. “Closer,” Zayn whispers.

Liam searches Zayn's face. “The love of my life,” he says, so simple and honest it makes Zayn lose his breath.

Emotion wells up in Zayn’s chest but it's not heavy. Instead his heart feels light and happy, so full of love for Liam that he would probably float away if Liam’s weight wasn't holding him down.

“Zayn,” Liam whispers. “Come back to me, babe.”

Zayn blinks up at him, soft smile on his face. “That's the one, Li. ‘S perfect.” And Liam can only grin back, the both of them caught up in each other's smiles as they drive on to Liam’s hotel, together, as a couple. Zayn can hardly believe it, but for the first time in a while he knows they're going to be okay. And that's all that really matters.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos, or any sort of positive attention really, are greatly appreciated <333  
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://zaynsthatkindofbeautiful.tumblr.com/)


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